Frozen Past, Burning Future
by Prium
Summary: He tried again. Nothing. He slumped. Then, a spark. Was it possible? Another spark. It was! He had the power. Could he do it all again? The war took everything. All he wanted was to be normal. But... he owed it to everyone. He owed it to all that he had loved and lived. This time, it will be different. It has to be.


It was July 31, 2015. A dark, cold night. The wind howled eerily. It was my birthday. My 34th birthday. Britain was gone. Like, completely gone. Not exactly an ideal way to spend your birthday, huh? Well, beggars can't be choosers... Things started going downhill during my supposed-to-be 7th year at Hogwarts. Unfortunately, or fortunately if you look at it, because Hogwarts was now just a large, smoking crater. And it hasn't stopped smoking yet, even though it's been about 5 months. Voldemort was dead. Dumbledore was dead. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Seamus, Luna, Cho, Dean, Neville... they were dead, all of them. The Order was dead. I was the last surviving member. McGonagall had went down with Dumbledore when the Death Eaters had invaded Hogwarts. By then Voldemort had conquered most of Europe. We had been on lock-down; no going in, and no going out.

I walked through the remains of Diagon Alley. The moon glowed brightly overhead. I could remember the fighting, the screams of the people, the cries as they were cut down...

No.

No, I wouldn't think about that now. The war was over. I had ended it, for everyone; my parents, Cedric, Sirius... Thoughts swirled in my head, how, maybe I could've saved them, maybe if I had just moved to the right, if I hadn't fallen for the trap. Well, no use crying over spilled milk. But I had finally done it. I had avenged everyone. I had blows Hogwarts, my first home, to smithereens.

Why?

Why would that be a good thing? Why would I destroy Hogwarts? Because it had become Voldemort's last stronghold. His minions and he himself were dead. But it didn't matter. Because there was no one to celebrate. But, perhaps I should start at the beginning. Well, the beginning of the end, anyways. So, let's start with 7th year.

Well, 7th year. Dumbledore had died, Fawkes had flown off to who-knows-where. We all know that part, year? Well, I had decided not to return to Hogwarts, and to set off to the impossible task that Dumbledore had created for me. In hindsight, it probably wasn't a very good idea, but I was like 17 at the time, so don't blame me.

Anyways, Ron, Hermione, and I had gone to Bill and Fleur's wedding. Of course, things had gone wrong, and Death Eaters had attacked. It was just killing curses everywhere...

Sometimes I wish that things could all just go back to normal. That I would be sitting at a table in the Burrow, and Molly... Mrs. Weasley... Would be serving piles and piles of food, and Ron and Hermione would be there too. That maybe I could forget for a while that Voldemort was out for my blood, and that I could be _just Harry_. But I know that I'll never have a normal life, that I'll always be unique.

But isn't everyone unique, in their own way?

Maybe someday I'll go to sleep, and wake up in my trusty ol' cupboard, and that it'll have all been a dream, or maybe I'll wake up on the Hogwarts Express, and play a round of Exploding Snap, or I'll be playing chess with Ron and losing badly. I tried pinching myself. I didn't wake up. But then again, not much can hurt me anymore. I had built up a resistance to pain, as pain is a weakness, and weaknesses lead to failure. Perhaps it was from all the cruciatus curses that had slipped through my defenses.

Back in 6th year, if anyone had asked me if I would be killing Death Eaters left and right when I grew up, I would've stared at them and backed away real slowly. But killing Death Eaters had become almost a hobby of sorts now. It was nothing new. Of course, the first time I had killed a human (discounting Quirrel) I had felt sick to my stomach and had thrown up all over the body, which had made it even worse. But sometimes you had to kill. To survive. Imagine the pros and cons. Death Eaters are trying to kill you. When you stun one, their friends revive them. Meanwhile, they are throwing _Avada Kedavra_ 's over and over at you. Funnily enough, the first time it had happened, the killing curse he had thrown (For well over the 15th time (Seriously, don't those take a lot of energy?)) had hit me and _rebounded_. Just like a certain Halloween night some 32 and a half years ago? The idiot had been so stunned, he didn't dodge.

Boom. Dead.

But that wasn't the time I had thrown up. It was when I was dueling Dolohov. The Death Eater who had killed Ron. There had been stunners, killing curses, bone-breakers, piercing hexes, _Crucios_ , blood-boiling curses... Although he had gone down with one very well placed _Diffindo_. A spell in _The Standard Book Of Spells, Grade 1_ by _Miranda Goshawk_. The duel had been 15 minutes long. And I had won all thanks to Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody. Another casualty.

But now I had a plan. A plan to fix all that. A plan that only a mad-man could've created.

But who said I wasn't a _little_ bit mad?

But anyways, back to the plan. It all started with an innocent, little time-turner. Like one that Hermione had used in first year. I had done a bit of studying. Actually, a lot of studying. Between the Defense Against The Dark Arts job curse, Trelawney's daily death predictions, Hagrid's "Cute and Cuddly" creatures, and Severus "I stick my overly long nose wherever I want" Snape's horrid potion-teaching skills, and Binn's very boring goblin rebellion classes at Hogwarts, I had realized that I was _waaaaaaaay_ behind in many subjects, and that I had only survived due to an absurd amount of luck. So I had studied, a lot. But I didn't only read books and get all of the paper exams right.

I had taken to training in the Room of Requirement.

I had also realized that I was _waaaaaaaay_ too much malnourished, and that was all the Dursleys' faults. They had worked me too hard and fed me too little. In fact, if they had fed me the required amount of food, I would've been a solid mass of muscle underneath all those baggy clothes. But that would've been a threat to their precious _Dinky-Duddydums_ , so I had come to Hogwarts in first year looking like I was only 9 years old. And it turns out that my eyes had not in fact always had bad vision. I had inherited my mothers eyes " _You have your mother's eyes_ ", and that all the time spent in the dark in my cupboard had done that. And after I had been nearly blind from all the lack sunlight, my _dear aunt_ (Note the Sarcasm) had brought home glasses for me to use. I had never questioned where they had come from, but after third year I realized that shouldn't _I_ have needed to go get the glasses because they were _my_ eyes? It turns out that she had found them in an old, discarded recycling bin.

So I had taken up on many, _many_ nutrition potions, and had started jogging around the school in the morning (Around 6 AM (I could never get much sleep either way because of the nightmares)), and I had done some simple training exercises, like 15 push-ups, 15 sit-ups, and 2 minutes of leg-lifts. And throughout the year I had started to increase the amount, until at the end of the year I did 40 push-ups and sit-ups, and 6 minutes of leg-lifts. And the nutrition potions had certainly helped. And I had reaped the benefits. I still had a slightly thin build, like my mother, but I was certainly taller than her, and my father at that, at around 5' 10", almost 6 feet. Although I could never quite reach 6 feet. I had broad shoulders, and I had a firm 6-pack. But I could now run faster than most people, as I had always had to run away from Dudley and his gang of bully friends, and I was basically starved back then. I can also lift heavier objects with my arms. But perhaps best of all, my reflexes had increased.

If a fly buzzes near me, I clap and it dies. If a person tries to shoot me from behind, I fire off a spell before they can even point their wand. And because my reflexes had improved, so had my gracefulness.

I know, _gracefulness_? But you won't believe the things you could do in the government whilst acting like a cold, untouchable pureblood. Or, this things you could get away with whilst acting like an innocent, naive little boy. I had many masks now: My 'I'm so very innocent, like an angel' mask, my 'Whatever you do, I can do better' mask, and the one I was talking about earlier, my 'I am powerful, you should do what I say' mask. They get me out of loads of trouble.

But anyways, my reflexes had improved bunches, and it was probably the best thing that had ever happened to me. Saved me more times than I can count. Literally. I tried.

Now, back to the plan.

So, I had a time turner. Swiped many from the Department of Mysteries. Including many different sized ones. Hermione's was _tiny_ compared to many of the others. Heck, I had one that was 2 feet wide. And after many months of studying, I had come to a conclusion:

Time travel was impossible.

And I know what you're asking, " _But, if time travel is impossible, then how did you save Buckbeak and Sirius?_ " Simple answer really:

Alternate universes.

Specifically Parallel universes, or universes that are the same in every way. And that was how we saved Sirius, by using the time turner to travel to an parallel dimension, but back in time. And I had a lot of theories and diagrams, but those would take over half a day to explain. So I'll just simplify my explanation for my plan:

I would go to a parallel universe, back in time. But not 8 hours.

Around 55 years.

To when James potter would've been born. James Potter, son of Fleamont and Euphemia Potter. And he would be Harry Potter, son of Charlus Potter and Dorea Black. Which would mean that he would be Sirius' first cousin once removed, and his dad's direct cousin. Weird... Who thought incest could take a whole new meaning?

And, I know, the plan is insane, and it will fail, and blah blah blah...

But I had run out of options.

The world was ending.

I was the last wizard.

This was my plan.

I would avenge my friends.

I would avenge my family.

I would not fail.

This is my story.


End file.
